


Upon Compulsion

by allcinders



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Acting, Class Projects Are the Root of All Evil, Irony, Life Imitating Art, M/M, Misunderstandings, More characters to be added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, References to Shakespeare, Twelfth Night - Freeform, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Work In Progress, Yosuke Hanamura Is a Silly Goose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6683653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allcinders/pseuds/allcinders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke has never been more certain in his life that the universe is out to get him; how else can he explain the fact that he must play the love-struck and sexuality-confused Olivia to Souji's disdainful Viola for no more than an embarrassing and demeaning class project?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know the games are set in Japan and that they would probably not be reading Shakespeare in literature class, they would be reading traditional Japanese works, and also that they’re really meant to be speaking Japanese, not English. I know, I know, I know.
> 
> Just consider this fanfic set in a sort of alternate universe where Japanese high school students inexplicably speak fluent English and Japanese high schools inexplicably teach Shakespeare in literature class. tbh this is kind of wish fulfillment for me because when I was in high school in my non-English speaking country of origin I always wanted to do Shakespeare in literature class instead of flowery, over-complicated, centuries-old poems in my native language that I could not for the life of me comprehend… (There’s probably some sort of irony here but idk what it is ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Yosuke had already known that the universe tended to go out of its way to make terrible things happen to him. He hadn’t needed the universe to hammer the message into his head by having his literature teacher suddenly announce in class that they would be splitting up into pairs to perform a random scene of the play they were currently studying, and that they would be given a week to practice the scene, and that they would have to perform it in front of the class and be graded on how well they had memorized it.

“Why, why, why, _why_???” Yosuke moaned, slumping forward onto his desk and burying his face in his arms. “We’re in literature class. _Literature_ class! Literature isn’t about acting! Literature should have nothing to do with acting! It should be about… reading stuff and analyzing it and figuring out what it _means_!” Not that Yosuke had originally been extremely enthused about reading and analyzing works of fiction, but that was beside the point.

“That’s the point of this exercise, Yosuke.” Dammit, why did Souji have to have such a soothing, calming voice? His voice was like cool water down a parched throat. It very nearly succeeded in making Yosuke feel like everything was okay and it wasn’t humiliating and weird to have to practice confessing his feelings for “Souji” in the most convincing and passionate way. “You know Shakespeare’s plays weren’t meant to be read. He wrote them, meaning for them to be performed. And—”

“I know, I know, I know, I heard the explanation. I was listening.” Yosuke waved a hand at Souji, still facedown on the desk. Souji deftly leaned to the right to avoid getting accidentally smacked.

“Were you?” His voice was light and teasing now.

“Shut up. _‘Course_ I was.” Yosuke tried to swat at Souji’s face again, this time on purpose.

“Come on, at least it’s only one scene. Let’s go through it at least once. We have only fifteen minutes before this period ends.” Souji nudged Yosuke’s shoulder and pointed over at Chie and Yukiko, who were doing an actually funny scene that didn’t involve any awkward feelings having to be confessed to anyone ever. “They’re already way ahead of us.”

“Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused!” cried Chie-as-Malvolio dramatically, whirling around to follow Yukiko-as-Feste’s voice as if she couldn’t see where Yukiko was. “I am as well in my wits, Fool, as thou art!”

Yukiko-as-Feste gasped delicately, skipping around Chie in circles, script in one hand. “But _as well_? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no more better in your wits than a fool.”

Reluctantly, Yosuke sat up straight and picked up the stapled-together sheets of A4 paper before him. “I hate my life,” Yosuke mumbled.

“Come on, Lady Olivia, none of that,” Souji said with a little smile on his face.

Dammit. It was _impossible_ to hate the guy when he was smiling like that. Yosuke groaned. “Fine.” He flipped over to the first page of the script. “Give me your hand, sir,” he said in his best posh, lofty nobility voice.

“My duty, madam, and most humble service,” Souji breathed out in a soft falsetto, ducking his head a little bit and looking up at Yosuke through his eyelashes. Yosuke’s heart skipped a beat.

“I, uh. _What_?” Yosuke blinked, scrabbling around in his brain for something to say, the existence of the script entirely forgotten. “Did you just do a _girl’s voice_?”

“Well, Viola _is_ meant to be a girl. Do you think it was weird? Since you’re not doing one? Should we both just go without?”

“No, no, partner, uhm, it was fine. It’s fine,” Yosuke stammered, his cheeks heating up. “Sorry, I, uh. I’ve never heard you speak in that voice before. I’ll start again.” He cleared his throat. “Give me your _hand_ , sir.”

“My duty, madam, and most humble service.” The falsetto was back. It wasn’t exaggerated, though, like when comedians did it on the television to try and be funny. It was… oddly persuasive. Like Yosuke really _was_ talking to a girl and not Souji.

He tried to imagine that he was practicing lines with someone else. A girl. With that same soft, androgynous voice, shoulder-length hair perhaps, and dimples.

It felt a lot less awkward. And a lot less like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him.

He looked back at the script. “What is your name?”

“Cesario is your servant’s name, fair princess.” Souji’s lips were twitching a little as he said it. For a moment, Yosuke was glad it was Souji who was his partner in this assignment and not Chie. He would have never heard the end of being the Fair Princess of Junes. At least Souji had the decency to not say these things even if they came to his mind.

“My _servant_ , sir!” Yosuke gasped, because even if he honestly had no idea how to act these lines or what half of them even meant, there was an exclamation mark here and he was going to pronounce it, dammit. It was a start. “‘Twas never merry world since—” here he squinted at the script to figure out how to enunciate the words, “—lowly feigning was call’d compliment. You’re servant to the Count Orsino, youth.”

Souji as a servant? Yosuke wondered what _that_ would look like. And now he was picturing Souji in a butler costume and getting down on one knee and… yeah, best to shut down _that_ fantasy before it went anywhere.

“And he is yours, and his must needs be yours.” Souji’s voice was careful and neutral, no doubt his way of trying to express how Viola was aware of Olivia’s feelings and trying not to comment on them one way or another. “Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.”

For a short while they went back and forth, Yosuke often saying his lines then afterward pausing to think about what they meant and what sort of headspace Olivia was in. Which he knew wasn’t ideal at all, but hey, this was only the first reading. He had plenty of time to think about it later.

And then, of course, they came to Olivia’s long speech about her passionate love for Cesario.

“O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt and anger of his lip!” bemoaned Yosuke, his heart falling a little to realize that it was true. He would think Souji terribly attractive no matter what expression he was wearing. Even if it was one of contempt and anger from a confession of Yosuke’s that he had just turned down.

Dear God, Olivia was pathetic. Olivia was also exactly like him.

Yosuke’s mouth moved, pronouncing the words mechanically, while inside something in his chest area was clenching painfully. “A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon than love that would seem hid: love’s night is noon.” What did that even _mean_? God _dammit_ , Olivia, get to the point. “Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by maidhood, honor, truth and _everything_ —” Yosuke looked up at Souji, who was listening with his eyes trained on Yosuke as if he was fascinated.

“Go on,” Souji murmured.

“I — okay, sorry, just a moment. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by truth and — I, I mean, sorry, partner, by maidhood, honor, truth and everything, I—”

His forehead broke out in a cold sweat as his eyes skipped over the next few lines.

 _I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,  
_ _Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide._

Dammit, this was just a play! And not even a real play, a classroom project! Why couldn’t he _say it_?

One desk over, Chie and Yukiko glanced at them in curiosity, apparently having finished their own scene. Yukiko watched them intently, then leaned in towards Chie to whisper in her ear.

Yosuke turned white, his eyes having met Yukiko’s, and Souji frowned in concern. Yosuke powered on and breathed out desperately, “B-by maidhood, honor, truth and _everything_ , I l—” He _was_ going to say it this time. This was _ridiculous_. “I lo—”

The bell rang.

Yosuke shot up from his seat, staring at the floor. “We’ll practice the scene later, yeah, partner?” Then he dashed out toward the bathroom, where he spent the entirety of the break staring into the mirror while inwardly he despaired and kicked himself over and over again for being such a spineless idiot.


	2. Act II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yosuke comes to a realization about his character that may or may not come a little from personal experience, even if he would never admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert 'surprise, bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me' gif*
> 
> I have. ahaha. totally not forgotten about this fic. Thank you for everyone who commented, or left kudos, or decided to give the first chapter a try. I really want to finish this fanfic! I live for awkward realization and personal insight through the medium of 400-year-old theater. I'm hoping to finish this in five 'acts', like a Shakespeare play, but we'll see.

When Yosuke had first noticed that he was falling for Souji, he’d resigned himself to never being able to talk about it to anyone, ever, and _especially_ not Souji himself. So of _course_ it felt awkward as hell, playing a girl who had a crush on Souji-as-a-boy-who-was-actually-a-girl and having to loudly confess to having feelings for him in front of the entire class. Even if it was all fictional. Even if it was for a graded class project.

He hated it.

While he was laminating in his misery, staring down at his textbook during all of next class without his brain absorbing a single word of what Kashiwagi was blathering about, Souji tapped his desk lightly and passed him a note.

_hey, wanna eat lunch with me on the roof today? maybe we can discuss the scene, too. I thought you might prefer not having an audience._

Oh, of course. Yosuke grimaced, remembering how important grades were to Souji. He’d latched on to Souji as a partner for the project because there was no way he was going to partner up with someone who’d find a way to turn it into an opportunity to make fun of him for it, like Chie, or someone who would be horribly awkward to practice any sort of scene with, like Yukiko, or someone he was hardly close to and resented him for being who he was, like—well, everyone else in the class. But only now was he realizing how much he could become an obstacle to Souji, when Souji was probably used to getting perfect or near-perfect marks on class projects.

He winced, and grabbed the note to hastily scrawl out a response. _sry for freezing up earlier dude. I guess I got nervous. thanks for the offer haha of course I’ll eat lunch w/ u._

Souji took the note quietly and swiftly when Kashiwagi was looking elsewhere, and Yosuke imagined Souji reading the note and smiling his pleased little smile, the one he smiled when he was with Nanako or when he thought nobody was looking.

* * *

“It’s silly,” Yosuke murmured moodily at the bento box Souji had handed him, sifting through the rice with his spoon. “I don’t know why I got so nervous about finishing the passage. Sorry, Souji.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

“It’s okay,” Souji said, and reassuringly patted the back of his hand. This did not help to quell the tide of emotions within Yosuke at all. He let his hand lean up into the warmth of Souji’s touch for exactly one half of a second, then let out an awkward little laugh and pulled it away.

“Let’s give it another go. I can do this,” Yosuke said with determination. “Wanna start from the beginning?”

Souji raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I… didn’t bring my script.”

“You didn’t?” It was only then that Yosuke peered over to scan Souji’s surroundings with his eyes and realized there really was no script in sight. He hadn’t noticed; he’d still been on edge after the disaster the in-class script reading had been that he’d been too nervous to even look Souji’s way.

Of course, Yosuke thought to himself wryly, it was like himself to even be bad at having a crush on Souji. Rise seemed to do it effortlessly.

“Well… Before we attempt anything too—anything more,” Souji said quickly, making another spike of guilt stab at Yosuke’s chest. Even a simple reading was “too” to him, and Souji _knew_. What a mess he was. “I thought we might just talk about the scene a little. How you want to approach the scene, the acting, what you think about the character you’re playing.”

“What I think about Olivia?”

“Yeah. Well.” Souji paused for a moment to pop a perfectly-stir-fried shrimp into his mouth, chew it, and swallow it. “In drama club, we did something like that in the beginning. Just talk about our roles in groups to try and conceptualize our characters before practice. Olivia isn’t you,” and as he said it Souji gave Yosuke a side glance. “She can’t be exactly like you, or anyone, really. She exists only as lines in a script, and that’s just what she’s saying. But there’s a lot more to someone than just what they say.”

“Hah. Yeah.” Understatement of the year, especially when it came to Yosuke Hanamura. “I guess.”

“There’s also how a character moves as they speak, how they say it, what they’re thinking. There’s a lot that the actors—and the directors, I guess—have to fill in between the lines. So.” Souji shrugged and turned a little from where he was sitting towards Yosuke. “Do you have any thoughts on Olivia?”

Yosuke didn’t really, except that it was pretty silly of her to fall in love with some dude she’d never met before during the course of one conversation. But Souji probably shouldn’t hear him say that he didn’t even understand his character’s basic motives. So Yosuke just blurted out the first thing that came to his mind after Souji’s mini-lecture. “I… Wow. Heh.” He pushed the scattered rice in his plastic container to one side with his chopsticks. “You know, you could be teaching acting. Shakespeare acting, even. You definitely seem to know more about this than Mr. Hosoi.”

Souji shook his head, an embarrassed little smile coming to his lips. “It’s nothing. The people in the drama club know much more about these things—Kuroki-senpai, Yumi-san. I’m really just an amateur compared to them.”

“Sure you are.” Yosuke smiled fondly at Souji’s humility, then shook his head. “Right. Thoughts on Duchess Olivia. Uhhhhhhh…” He stared into the distance as he tried to think up something smart enough to tell Souji. “She’s… honestly, her mind is all over the place. She’s in mourning for half her family and she still has enough brainpower to go off seeking new crushes? I—how would that even _work_.”

Souji shrugged again, in that careless little way that made him seem like he didn’t have any worries at all, like worries and troubles were in fact sliding off of him like water from glass. “Maybe… Maybe she just wanted more company. More human connections.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Yosuke stared down at the floor. “Still… I wonder if she ever feels guilty. Like it isn’t _right_.”

“Yeah?” Even though he wasn’t looking straight at Souji, it was hard not to miss the inquisitiveness in his voice.

“Yeah. I mean—her father and her brother just died! That’s gotta be hard on her, even if— _especially_ if she has a lot of responsibility. To, you know, run the household and shit. Maybe that’s why she was so loud and vocal about swearing off guys in the beginning of the play.” Yosuke put his utensils down as understanding dawned on him. “Maybe she knew that she has a tendency to fall for guys too fast and too hard, and when this tragic _thing_ happened, she was like, obviously not trying to use this on purpose, but she decided _if_ **_this_ ** _won’t make me come to my senses, probably nothing will_. So she went around telling everyone, because you know that thing about telling people your New Year’s Resolutions to be shamed into going through with them, right?”

He chanced a glance at Souji in the middle of his rambling. The expression on Souji’s face was odd. Contemplative? At least there wasn’t anything negative in it. “Yeah. Go on.”

Realizing that he had been gesturing a bit as he spoke, Yosuke put aside the bento box, lest he spill the contents. “If she knew that she tended to do this… then she must have felt like an idiot when she _realized_ she was falling for Cesario, which she had sworn not to do. She’s throwing herself into this thing headlong, when she finally confesses, and maybe that’s kinda out of desperation. She’s already gone over the edge of the cliff, so she might as well fall head-first and fall in style, I guess? I mean, she wouldn’t _vocalize_ it, but maybe I can do something with that in my acting. Imply it. Or something like that,” Yosuke said, the end of his speech lamely descending into a mumble.

After a moment, when he was certain that Yosuke was done talking, Souji reached over and took his bento box. There were only a few scattered grains of rice in it, anyway, and Yosuke had never been that neurotic about scraping off everything on the plate. “That’s really good.” Yosuke fought down the urge to visibly preen at the compliment. “I’d like to talk about it some more, I really would, but I think I need some time to think about my own character’s psyche. The lunch period is almost over, though… so do you want to talk about it later over in my room? And practice it, too, since we have to eventually memorize the script.”

“Sure, man. That’d be great.”

“I think you’re really good at coming up with these sort of insights on the spot, Yosuke. I’m not sure I could have done the same myself, about Viola. While doing similar exercises with the drama club, I was never sure I was coming up with enough insights on my characters.”

“You shouldn’t feel like that, dude; you’re a smart guy,” Yosuke murmured, packing up his own utensils before reaching over to help Souji with putting the bento boxes away and cleaning up after themselves. “I can say a lot of stuff, but that’s different from saying anything with substance. You, it’s like everything you say has substance. You never end up rambling and letting loose a lot of useless crap like I do.”

They both stood, facing each other. Souji was smiling kindly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Yosuke.” Then he turned to face the door. “Let’s go. The bell will ring in a few minutes.”

Yosuke swallowed. His raging teenage hormones were doing a drunken somersault in his chest. “Uh. Sure. Of course.”

He followed Souji back into the school building proper and downstairs, and ended up spending the most of the next period trying to stop the image of that smile from popping up behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes.


End file.
